


Exquisite

by jule1122



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 21:40:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10052432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jule1122/pseuds/jule1122
Summary: Originally posted in 2008. Thank youtweedygalfor being will to beta this for me. You’re the best!Graphic:This story was inspired by a stunning graphic done by the incredible and multi-talentedtestdog65





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in 2008. Thank you [](http://tweedygal.livejournal.com/profile)[tweedygal](http://tweedygal.livejournal.com/) for being will to beta this for me. You’re the best!
> 
> **Graphic:** This story was inspired by a stunning graphic done by the incredible and multi-talented [](http://testdog65.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://testdog65.livejournal.com/)**testdog65**

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/jule1122/pic/0000s8rf/)

Justin woke up alone. He found Brian, as he had many times before, staring out the window. Justin always wondered what he saw out there. Stepping up behind him, he wrapped his arms around him and pressed his cheek to Brian’s back. Brian remained still; he must have heard Justin coming.

“Come back to bed.”

“Not yet,” Brian shook his head. “We should have gone somewhere warm.”

“No time,” Justin was leaving the following evening.

“There never is.”

Brian sounded resigned, and Justin wondered for the first time if this visit had been a mistake. It had seemed so important to be here, in Pittsburgh, on this day. One year from the wedding that wasn’t. But maybe his presence was a reminder of the wrong things.

“There will be,” Justin hoped he sounded as confident as he felt.

“You’re sure?” Brian asked, and Justin could picture his upraised eyebrow.

“Positive.” They wouldn’t always be apart; Justin knew this. “It’s only time.”

Brian’s back shook with silent laughter. Justin kissed the base of his neck, tracing the nearest vertebrae with his tongue. He stepped back and tugged at Brian’s hands, hoping to lure him back to bed.

“I still have the rings,” Brian said abruptly as he turned to face Justin.

“I know,” Justin held back a smile.

“Snooping?” Brian sounded amused.

Justin shook his head slowly. “I don’t have to.”

Brian’s eyes drifted to the painting propped up against the wall. “I guess you don’t.”

The painting had been shipped to the loft the week before. Brian had waited to unwrap it until after Justin arrived. He hadn’t said a word, simply stared at it for several long minutes before crushing his mouth to Justin’s.

Like all of Justin’s work, it was large. He’d sized it roughly to fill the empty space left by the painting Brian lost after Stockwell. He started it shortly after moving to New York, and it had taken months to complete. When he couldn’t sleep or when he felt alone, it was the piece he worked on. His loneliness, his frustration, his fears and doubts filled the canvas. But he’d also painted all his love, his desire, his faith, his unwavering belief into it as well. He hoped Brian could see both.

“Do you like it?” Justin couldn’t resist asking.

Brian looked back at Justin, his expression serious. “It’s exquisite,” he said, his eyes never leaving Justin’s.

“You always say that.”

Just a hint of smile crossed Brian’s face, and he brought his hand up to stroke Justin’s cheek. “It’s always true.”


End file.
